When Lauren Pashkow, 23, and her friend, Terri Russell, 30, made a recent trip to Coney Island, they weren’t interested in riding the Cyclone or getting a hot dog at Nathan’s. They just wanted to flag down the guy walking along the beach yelling, “Nutcrackers! Ice-cold nutcrackers!”

Since the 1990s, nutcrackers — fruity, boozy drinks vendors covertly sell on the sand — have been a New York tradition. Pashkow, a high school office manager who lives in Park Slope, heard about them long before she moved to the city from down South a year ago.

“New Yorkers in Florida would always talk about nutcrackers,” she says.

“We came here and we were definitely like, ‘OK, we have to get a nutcracker,’ ” adds Russell, a nurse practitioner who also hails from Florida.

Soon, they wave down a vendor sporting an Under Armour hat and a gold tooth. He opens his backpack and shows them two flavors to choose from: mango or fruit punch lemonade. They opt for the mango, sold in large plastic bottles for $10 each.

Nutcracker recipes vary by vendor, but they all contain a combination of fruit juice and liquor, are packaged in clear plastic bottles and are usually frozen to a refreshing slush.

Led Black, who is directing a documentary, “Nutcracker Inc.,” traces the birth of the drink back to Flor de Mayo, a Latin restaurant on the Upper West Side that added the beverage to its menu in the ’90s.

The rum-and-Southern-Comfort-based recipe was simple, and hustling entrepreneurs were inspired to make — and sell — their own in the streets. They became popular in barbershops and bodegas in Harlem, and now pop up at most big outdoor gatherings, from basketball tournaments to parades.

“There’s always a market,” says Black.

Many fans say they’re best enjoyed on the beach, as a refreshing bootleg alternative to Coney Island’s growing chain offerings.

Drinks “are way more expensive on the boardwalk. I won’t get the same amount of liquor that I do in this,” says Cookie, a 27-year-old nurse from The Bronx who bought a nutcracker while at the beach with her family this past Saturday. (She didn’t want to give her full name because she was buying an illegal drink.)

Those selling the drinks can make as much as a few hundred dollars a day.

Kareem Middleton, a 26-year-old from Bed-Stuy, has been hawking nutcrackers for four years. He says he typically sells about 50 per day, packaged in 8-ounce bottles for $5 or 12-ounce bottles for $10.

While the nutcracker hasn’t gone full Brooklyn artisanal, Middleton says he distinguishes his product by using top-shelf ingredients, mixing Patrón tequila or New Amsterdam vodka with real mango juice, and giving it a good chill.

“We try to keep it as slushy as possible for the beach,” he says.

Sellers mostly duck the eye of the law by keeping quiet when they pass police on the sand. They get hassled by the cops every now and then because it’s not legal to sell alcohol without a license, but few ever get in real trouble.

“If you don’t see me selling anything, I’m not selling anything,” one vendor named Marvin says he tells the cops. “I’m walking the beach.”